They gathered behind their leader, a great and powerful man. He promised them a perfect future and they would fight and die for him, follow him blindly, and rely on his strength to guide them.
Their beliefs were few, and strict, their opinions harsh, and certain.
They were the few, the strong, a minority of a minority and they carried their titles with pride.
Now they huddle behind bars, no more than skin stretched over bones and eyes that glare. They cry out in their sleep and deny their pain upon awakening. They can show no weakness, for they are the most loyal to their master, and they would never deny their true beliefs.
They wait, hated by the world and outcasts of the community they tried to purify. They long for the freedom to cure that same world of its wrongs.
Look now. See what their opinions have made of them.